


Little Black Book

by wendymarlowe



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 221B Ficlet, M/M, blame twitter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-16 21:36:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21278102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wendymarlowe/pseuds/wendymarlowe
Summary: I wrote a tweet speculating about Sherlock's "little black book" and @BenBatched said she wanted to see it as a fic and I guess I wasn't gonna get my NaNoWriMo book started tonight anyway...(Those of you who are doing NaNo2019, I'm wendymarlowe over there. I wanna be your friend!)





	Little Black Book

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gayshipbaeship](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayshipbaeship/gifts).

“Found her little black book,” Sherlock called to John across the murder scene. “I was right--she’s been busy.”

Anderson sneered at him. “That’s neither little nor black. Work on your observation skills.”

“Neither is mine,” Sherlock retorted, “yet the term is in common parlance. Lestrade, your idiot infestation--”

“You’ve got a little black book?” Lestrade interrupted incredulously. “Sherlock, you know that presupposes you’ve had sex, right?”

“What makes you think I haven’t?”

John pinched the bridge of his nose. “Christ.”

***

“Why is it shocking that I’ve experienced partnered intercourse?” Sherlock asked two days later out of the blue. “So many motives rely on it!”

“I…” John shrugged. “Never seen you on the pull, so I assumed…”

Sherlock stared blankly at him for a long minute, then disappeared into his room and returned with a well-used notebook which he wordlessly passed to John.

It was, indeed, neither little nor black. It was also filled with frighteningly accurate sketches of human genitalia in various states of arousal and abnormality. “All these are from memory afterward?”

Sherlock hummed. “Collecting data.”

“There’s got to be a hundred--where the hell did you find a bloke with elephantitis?”

“Oh, him. Argentina.”

“And this one?”

Sherlock peered over his shoulder. “Diphallia is rare, but--”

John pondered. _Might as well…_ “Want to see mine?”

“Please,” Sherlock breathed.


End file.
